Countdown: Eleven days.
In Hagrid’s pumpkin patch, seventeen giant pumpkins were lined up in two rows.
Every single one was fully four times larger than Evelyn’s head.
She crouched beside the third pumpkin, holding a fruit knife pinched from the kitchens, expertly carving holes into the skin.
“What’re you up to, Miss Valentine?” Hagrid called out as he stepped out of his cabin with a shovel over his shoulder.
Fang trotted beside his feet, a dead rat clamped in his jaws.
“Carving jack-o’-lanterns, Hagrid.
Halloween is coming up!”
“Halloween jack-o’-lanterns are my job!
Professor Dumbledore has me prepare ’em every year.”
“I know, so I came to help.”
Evelyn dug the tip of her blade into the thick skin and rotated it with practiced precision along the drawn lines.
“Look, I carved a smiley face on it.”
Hagrid bent down, scrutinizing the face closely.
Two triangular eyes, a jagged mouth, and a lightning-bolt-shaped scar added right across its forehead.
“What’s with the scar?”
“Artistic flair, Hagrid.
Inspired by real life.”
Hagrid scratched his bushy, tangled beard and offered a good-natured grin.
“Looks right nice!
How many are you carving?”
“Seventeen.
All of them.”
“Seventeen?
All by yourself?”
“I brought tools.”
Evelyn pulled a kraft-paper package from her robes.
Unwrapping it revealed seventeen white candles neatly aligned inside.
They looked completely ordinary—finger-thick with little tin bases at the bottom.
Hagrid picked one up and brought it to his nose for a sniff.
“Muggle candles?”
“Custom made.”
“Custom how?”
“Long burn time, windproof, rainproof.
And when you light them, they give off really pretty colored flames!”
Hagrid’s eyes lit up.
“Colored?
That’s grand!
Professor Dumbledore loves fancy, flashy things!”
Evelyn slotted the candles one by one into the carved-out pumpkins.
Each was firmly secured in the dead center at the bottom using pumpkin pulp.
Her movements were painstaking.
The position of every candle was measured down to the inch, maintaining a precise two-inch distance from the pumpkin wall.
The system panel flashed at the edge of her vision.
[Item Confirmed: Miniature Flashbang × 17 (Disguise: Colored Candle)]
[Function: Upon ignition, releases bright light and a 120-decibel sonic boom after a six-hour delay, lasting three seconds.]
[Bonus Effect: All creatures within the sonic boom radius are forced into a “Stunned” state for 1.5 seconds.]
[Note: This item is effective against large magical creatures, such as trolls.]
Evelyn closed the panel and moved on to carve the fourth pumpkin.
“Hagrid, where do you usually put the jack-o’-lanterns for the Halloween feast?”
“On the windowsills in the Great Hall, and out in the corridors.
The third floor, second floor, the entrance to the Dungeons—we put ’em out every year.”
“The entrance to the Dungeons too?”
“Aye, the Slytherin kids need to celebrate Halloween too, don’t they?”
The tip of Evelyn’s knife scratched a mark into the skin.
Dungeon entrance, third-floor corridor, second-floor corridor, Great Hall.
In the original story, the troll invaded from the Dungeons, and Quirrell led it to block the girls’ bathroom where Hermione was.
And the girls’ bathroom was on the first floor.
“Hagrid, do you put jack-o’-lanterns in the first-floor corridor?”
“First floor?
That’s near the lavatories.
Gets a bit smelly down there, so we don’t usually put any.”
“We will this year!”
“Eh?”
“I’ll carve a few extra and place them in the first-floor corridor too.
It’s Halloween, after all—there should be festive atmosphere everywhere!”
Infected by her enthusiasm, Hagrid slapped his thigh in agreement.
“Right!
I’ll carve a few extra!
I’ll go fetch more pumpkins from the patch!”
Hagrid trudged off with his shovel, Fang trotting happily behind him.
Evelyn crouched amidst the pile of pumpkins and pried off the top lid of the fifth one.
Just as she was fitting a candle inside the cavity, footsteps sounded behind her.
The stride was steady, precisely spaced, separated from the stone flags by the hem of a robe.
Severus Snape’s voice drifted over coldly from three meters away.
“Valentine.”
“Professor!
Did you come to help carve pumpkins?”
“I came to see what sort of trouble you are stirring up now.”
Snape strode over to the pumpkin pile, his gaze locking onto the candles.
“Where did these candles come from?”
“Mail order from Hogsmeade.”
“Candles from Hogsmeade do not come with tin bases.”
This old bat—he even remembered the exact specs of candle bases?
“I modified them by hand so they’re easier to secure.”
Snape picked up a candle, spinning it twice between his fingers.
He brought it close to his nose and sniffed the top.
“Paraffin wax, potassium nitrate, and another compound I do not recognize.”
“Professor, is your nose a Potions analyzer?”
“Answer me.
What is the potassium nitrate for?”
“To extend the burn time.
Muggles use it in fireworks too—it’s quite common.”
Snape glared at her for five seconds, his dark eyes glinting ominously.
“You are packing fireworks inside jack-o’-lanterns?”
“Colored candles, Professor!
To build up the holiday spirit!”
“The last time you mentioned ‘holiday spirit,’ you blew up Ollivander’s shop.”
“That was an accident!
These are just candles!
What could a candle possibly blow up?”
Snape’s face turned livid.
“You have a record, Valentine.
An extensive record.”
“Professor, you can’t ban me from lighting candles just because I’ve blown things up before!
It’s a Halloween tradition!”
“The Halloween tradition is to eat dinner in the Great Hall, not to lay explosives in the corridors.”
“They’re not explosives!”
Snape drew his wand, pointing the tip directly at a candle.
“Aparecium!”
The spell struck the candle.
A faint shimmer rippled across the white wax surface before quickly dissipating.
Nothing was revealed.
System items were entirely immune to standard detection charms.
“See, Professor?
Perfectly clean candles.”
Snape stowed his wand, the hem of his robes sweeping across the grass.
“I shall personally inspect every jack-o’-lantern on Halloween night.”
“You’re more than welcome to!
I promise to cooperate.”
Snape turned and took a few steps, then paused.
“You intend to put jack-o’-lanterns in the first-floor corridor as well?”
“Hagrid agreed.”
“The first-floor corridor is near the girls’ lavatory.”
“Jack-o’-lanterns aren’t picky about location.”
Snape kept the back of his head turned to her, dark hair falling over his shoulders, the faint scent of roses lingering around him.
“On Halloween night, you are to remain in the Great Hall.”
“I never said I was going anywhere else.”
“You never say it, but you never stay where you belong!”
He strode off, his black robes trailing behind him across the grass.
Evelyn watched his retreating back, then pulled out her calendar card.
October 20th.
Eleven days until Halloween.
She opened her system panel to review the deployment map.
Four in the Great Hall, three on the third floor, three on the second floor, two at the Dungeon entrance.
Five in the first-floor corridor.
She drew a circle around the first floor with her finger.
Five lamps were enough to cover a thirty-meter radius around the girls’ bathroom.
When the troll passed through here, triggering the flashbangs, the 120-decibel sonic boom combined with the blinding flash would be more than enough to stun it.
She closed the panel and resumed carving.
Her fruit knife etched a sixth smiley face into the pumpkin’s hide, giving it a particularly wide, jagged mouth.
Evelyn tilted her head, looked at it, and added two buck teeth.
“Looks like Quirrell,” she muttered to herself.
…
Countdown: Nine days.
Taking advantage of her free time after lunch, Evelyn hauled the first batch of jack-o’-lanterns into the castle.
In the third-floor corridor, she bumped straight into Hermione, who was heading to the library.
“Evelyn, why are you carrying a pumpkin?”
“Setting up Halloween decorations.
Hagrid asked me to help.”
“Hagrid has you carrying them alone?
Every one of these pumpkins must weigh at least twenty pounds!”
“Good exercise, Hermione.
Want to help?”
The two split the work.
Hermione used the Levitation Charm to settle the pumpkins neatly in place.
“When do we light the candles?”
“Halloween night.
They’ll all be lit together at six in the evening.”
Hermione wiped pumpkin pulp off her hands, eyeing her with suspicion.
“What have you been up to lately?
Aside from that business of yours.”
“Getting ready for Halloween.”
“Just these jack-o’-lanterns?”
“Yup.”
Hermione cocked her head.
“You’re never ‘just’ doing anything.
Last time you said you were helping Hagrid feed the chickens, you ended up luring them to the Black Lake as toys for the Giant Squid.” This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
“That time the chickens ran off on their own!”
“Three chickens marching in single file toward the Black Lake had nothing to do with the feed in your hands?”
“Hermione, go study.”
Hermione picked up her bookbag, walked two steps, then turned back.
“Are you going to the Halloween feast?”
“Yes.”
“Will you stay in the Great Hall with everyone else?”
“Hermione Granger, you’re the third person today to ask me that exact question.”
“The third?
Who were the first two?”
“Snape, and the baseball bat under my pillow.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and her footsteps faded down the staircase.
Evelyn hopped off the windowsill.
At the corner at the end of the corridor, half an inch of a black robe hem was exposed, then quickly retracted.
Without turning her head, Evelyn kept carrying pumpkins down to the first floor.
In the shadows behind her, the owner of that black robe silently tailed her.
Reaching the middle of the first-floor corridor, Evelyn placed a pumpkin on the stone pedestal outside the girls’ bathroom.
As she inserted a candle, she mused aloud, “Professor, this is the third time you’ve trailed me.”
Dead silence hung in the shadows.
“The rose scent on your robe hasn’t faded yet.
I can smell it three meters away.”
After two seconds of silence, Snape stepped out from the corner, his face darker than a Dungeon wall.
“I am not trailing you.
I am on patrol.”
“And your patrol route happens to match my pumpkin delivery route step for step?
Pure coincidence?”
“Filch reported that a student is placing items of unknown origin in the corridors without authorization.”
“These are Hagrid-authorized jack-o’-lanterns.
Their origin is crystal clear.”
Snape walked up to the stone pedestal, picked up the pumpkin, and inspected the bottom.
The candle rested quietly inside, entirely unremarkable.
He checked it once more with his wand, but still found nothing.
“Valentine, why place a jack-o’-lantern right outside the girls’ bathroom?”
“The corridor needs lighting, and this spot is the dimmest.”
“Hogwarts has wall sconces.”
“Wall sconces don’t have holiday spirit!
Professor, what’s your obsession with my jack-o’-lanterns anyway?”
Snape stared at the buck-toothed smiley face for three seconds.
“I will assign extra patrols on Halloween night.
If anything goes wrong with these jack-o’-lanterns, I will deduct two hundred points from you.”
“Two hundred points?
Professor, Hufflepuff only has around three hundred total!”
“Then you had better pray these candles burn quietly and behave.”
Snape turned, his robe sweeping up a gust of wind.
After walking ten paces, he muttered under his breath in a low voice:
“Potassium nitrate to extend burn time.
Does she take me for a first-year?”
Evelyn secured the last pumpkin, pulled out her calendar card, and drew a circle over October 31st.
Beside the circle she wrote: *Flashbangs deployed.
Five on the first floor covering the girls’ lavatory.*
She looked up out the window.
The surface of the Black Lake shimmered golden in the setting sun, and the Giant Squid lazily slapped its tentacles against the water.
A line of small text popped up on the system panel: [Halloween Crisis Countdown: 9 days, 14 hours, 22 minutes.]
Evelyn put away her fruit knife and turned to walk back.
As she passed the girls’ bathroom door, her feet came to a halt.
From the crack under the door came faint sounds of sobbing.
Evelyn pressed her ear to the wood.
The weeping was intermittent, punctuated by sniffles.
She pushed the door open.
“Anyone in there?”
The crying stopped.
A muffled, tiny voice came from inside a stall: “Go away.”
It was Hermione.
“Hermione?
Didn’t you go to the library?”
Rapid sounds of paper being pulled echoed from the stall.
“Don’t come in, Evelyn.”
“Who picked on you?”
After five seconds of silence, the stall door cracked open.
Hermione’s eyes were red and swollen, the tip of her nose pink.
“Ron Weasley said I’m a friendless, insufferable know-it-all.
He said it right in front of everyone in Charms class.”
Hermione squeezed the blue quill in her hand so hard her knuckles turned white.
Evelyn drew the fruit knife from her boot cuff and flipped it in her hand.
“Hermione, are you going to the Halloween feast tonight?”
Hermione looked up, tears welling in her eyes.
“I don’t want to go.”
Evelyn crouched down, looking her straight in the eye, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“You have to go!”
“Why?”
“Because on Halloween night, you must be in the Great Hall.”
Just as Hermione was about to ask further, frantic footsteps and screams echoed from far down the corridor.
Outside the bathroom, the flames inside the jack-o’-lanterns flickered.
Crooked shadows danced across the doorboards, projecting an eerie, buck-toothed smile.